


Soup Day

by ThunderCant



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, WAFF, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderCant/pseuds/ThunderCant
Summary: Sometimes, things need to be soft. Sometimes, things need over ten years to show their soft side.Happy Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Soup Day

**Author's Note:**

> Shrugs idk what to tell you my dudes!!! It's just fluff! there's nothing in here but plotless fluff!!! I don't believe it either!!!

Dr. Brandt said that while the progenitor virus still had an undeniable effect on injuries, she doubted it would help Wesker recover from a bout of flu. At first, Chris worried when he received the  _ ding _ early in the morning-  _ ding _ was usually an update about whatever shit Wesker was pulling, after all- so for once it was nice to be greeted with good news. 

Well, good-ish news. Wesker being diagnosed with the flu and Chris getting an email about it meant that Wesker had, in fact, decided to swallow his pride and tell the doctor when something went wrong. Chris could count the times that had happened on one hand. 

That didn’t mean Chris wouldn’t bully him over it. He arrived at the secure unit in about ten minutes, greeting the receptionists with a smile and getting his badge to pass through. A quick trip up the stairs and there he was, standing in front of room thirty-four. 

“Wesker? You awake?”

Silence. He flicked on the lights, stepping in to see the mess of blond splayed out on the pillow, a leg stuck out from under his blankets. Chris almost laughed at the sight. His head was smashed into the soft fabric, a small wet patch of drool by his mouth. 

Chris dropped his bag by the bedside, deciding goodies could wait. Wesker hardly moved when he slid beside him. He smoothed over his sweaty hair and smiled at the little sigh he received. Wesker was cute when he was asleep, always nuzzling into whatever touch he could get. 

It didn’t take long for him to wake up, fumbling for his glasses and only getting Chris’ thigh in response. Blinking, blearily, like he was trying to remember where he was.

“...Chris?”

“Hi. How’re you feeling?”

“Like  _ shit _ , _ ”  _ Wesker moaned, rolling onto his back and pinching his brow, “what’s the point of a ‘god’ virus if it can’t destroy these stupid things…”

Chris patted him on the shoulder and handed him his glasses. The red eyes looked a little silly when Chris combined them with Wesker’s battered old shirt and patterned boxers. It was enough to take the edge off his devil-bright glare, though at least it wasn’t directed at Chris, for once. 

“Have you eaten today?”

“Bit of toast. I didn’t feel like eating this morning, so I wanted to tell the doctor that it was,” he pulled a face, “because I was feeling sick rather than the...unfortunate thoughts. She told me to go to the nurses and they’re certain I have the flu.”

Chris hummed. That was progress. He helped Wesker sit up before bringing his bag, pulling out the thermos and some bread he’d picked up, “are you hungry now?”

“A bit,” he admitted, “I don’t feel like eating but the nurses will come and fuss if I don’t. Why, did they ask you to bring something?”

“They might’ve, but I think by now I’m well known for bringing you stuff you’ll actually eat. You do still like the country chicken soup, right?” He could all but see Wesker’s ears perk up, “I made it this morning. It’s still warm. Good bread too. Still don’t feel like eating?”

If he had a tail, it would have been wagging. Wesker watched the thermos like a cat watching a toy, following the pour and taking the little cup in trembling hands. He curled up with it, sipping, then sticking his tongue out.

“I told you it was warm.”

“That’s not warm. That’s steaming. You’re going to burn me alive with soup.”

Chris just chuckled at him, pouring out his own serving and letting Wesker lean on his side. He was still a pain in the ass, smug and arrogant, but it was nice to see him get better. Accept help and tell people when he felt shitty, rather than holding it in until he had to be forced to get better.

“Do you want to go to the community room after this?”

“No. I think the nurses would send me back up, anyway. No game night for me until I’m not coughing on everything.” 

“Game night? You trading favours or something?”

Wesker snorted and smirked at him, “Oh yes, I’ve won an awful lot of sertraline from playing Mario Kart.”

“I never know if you’re joking when you say that.”

He rolled his eyes and went back to his soup, nibbling at the bread and chunks of vegetables. Comfortable silence, even though Chris couldn’t resist bouncing his leg for lack of things to do. Wesker yawned, soup half-done, and set it on his bedside table. “You can go, if you want. You don’t have to stay and baby me.”

“Nah. It’s Wednesday, I always visit you on Wednesday.” He fidgeted until he found his phone, scrolling through the apps. “I think I have some movies on here…”

“Mhm. Let me know if you find something good.”

Most of the movies were romcoms, which made Wesker raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed content with the choice, though his eyes slowly drooped shut and he started to wilt like a flower, sliding down Chris’ side until he was fast asleep. 

Chris smiled at him. Softly, sweetly smiled, tugging until Wesker was comfortably resting on his stomach, wrapped up in his blankets. It was like he was showing his belly, after years of scratching and hissing like a mad cat. Even when the orderly came by to give him his medicine for the day, as soon as he’d swallowed it he went right back to his living pillow, curling up comfortably. He stroked over his hair, plucking his glasses off, and waited for Wesker to wake up again. 


End file.
